Yet it happens: it's Friday evening, and you've run into an old school acquaintance from some time ago. You reason, well, we hadn't known each other well before, and we certainly had every chance; but, then again, it's Friday, and it's cold out, and you don't happen to know anyone else in the place, either.
He mentions a thing he used to like to do, and wonders if you mightn't want to try it; it was kinda neat. One leans against a window in an ill-fitting brief, chilling one's back and scorching one's legs on the radiator. But I don't have a radiator, you reply. Oh, that's OK. I do.
laurent must be guy davenport!
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